Coagulation
by lanri
Summary: Tag to Fresh Blood, Unseen 'verse. Sam can understand why Dean's acting protective, but he's not going to put up with it for long.


**Coagulation**

* * *

><p>"Dean, how'd it go?"<p>

The thrill of adrenaline died away as Dean shouldered his responsibilities once more. "Turns out Gordon's here on the hunt as well."

Sam froze. "Gordon?"

Dean grunted and threw his duffel down onto the awful mattress. "Yeah. I think the vamp got him, I couldn't stick around to find out."

"So we find the nest?" Sam asked.

Dean eyes his little brother with a frown. "_We_ don't do anything. You stay here, and I'll go to the nest."

"You need back-up for this," he insisted. "We don't know how many that vamp has turned."

Dean growled in frustration. "So? It's not like I have to worry about—"

"—don't finish that sentence." The dark imprecations in Sam's voice made Dean stop. Still, he couldn't let Sam wade into this mess by himself.

"No, Dean!"

He slammed the door behind him, feeling Sam's body thud against it as he did so. Wincing, Dean went to the Impala. It was for Sam's own good—Dean wasn't about to let his brother die again.

* * *

><p>Oscillating between rage and fear and helplessness was something Sam knew very well. All too well. He paced the decrepit motel room five times, each time considering his limited options. They were tail-spinning, both of them. Sam desperately wished he could see Dean's face every time his deal came up in conversation—his voice, for once, wasn't giving away anything, even though Sam was waiting for fear or something to give him a clue to his brother's headspace.<p>

The door slammed open, and Sam fumbled for his gun.

"It's me. Gordon's been turned." Dean cursed under his breath and moved past Sam. Slowly, Sam lowered his weapon.

"He's probably gonna come after us, now that he knows I'm here," he murmured.

Dean's mutterings became louder and angrier.

"I'm gonna go rip his lungs out," Dean threatened. Sam heard him going for his weapons, and lunged after him, using all of his strength to hold his brother.

"Sam, wha—"

"Stop Dean, just stop."

Maybe there was enough desperation in his voice, but Dean, for once, obeyed.

"Stop leaving me behind," Sam begged. He hated how young he sounded. It didn't matter, though. "Stop pretending that you're dealing, and that it's better with me locked away. What if you don't come back? Dean, I can't . . . I can't let that happen."

It took too long for Dean to respond, and Sam slowly withdrew his hands, feeling the heat rising up his face in probably an unattractive blush.

"Sammy." Dean's voice was gentle, the gentleness he had used after Jess had died, or when Sam was sick, or when the hunt had been close.

"Forget it," Sam said recklessly. "You can get him. I trust you, that wasn't what I—"

"Hey." Dean didn't usually initiate hugs that much, but they never failed to make Sam feel like he was worth something, like he wasn't a freak, like he wasn't a burden. "You're right, Sammy. If we're gonna take Gordon on, then we'll do it together, yeah? We'll camp out here, ward him off. It'll be fine."

Sam nodded, allowing himself a moment of weakness and burying his face into Dean's shoulder. Sam would save Dean. This nightmare would end.

He had to believe that.

* * *

><p>After Gordon's phone call, Dean was left without any options.<p>

"We go save her," Sam said, strongly.

"It would be safe if I went alone," Dean suggested weakly, but he had been running this argument past Sam for too long, and it wouldn't fly anymore.

"Let's go." Sam snagged his cane and hunting knife. "I call shotgun."

"You're always riding shotgun," Dean said, perplexed.

Sam smiled, mysteriously. "That's why I'm calling it."

"I don't understand your brain sometimes, kiddo."

"Don't kiddo me." Sam went through the door first, which only served to increase Dean's nervousness.

As he started the Impala and pulled out of the motel, he cleared his throat. "Sam, promise me you'll stay behind me?"

"So I can accidentally chop off your head? Genius, Dean. Remember the back-to-back way we've fought for our entire lives? Yeah, I think I'll go with that."

"Gordon knows us," Dean argued. "He'll expect us coming in the way we are, and then he'll get the drop on us."

"You won't let him," Sam returned confidently.

Dean growled under his breath as he pulled the Impala in. He didn't like getting all poetical and whatnot, but the building looked like death.

"Stay close, Sammy."

"Duh."

Dean led them through the building, finding the hostage soon enough.

"Can she walk?" Sam asked anxiously.

Dean gathered her up. "I've got her." He turned.

Metal slammed down, and Dean whirled, heart nearly stopping as he found a partition separating him from Sam.

"Sammy!"

"Dean!"

Dean snarled, pulling helplessly at the metal—it was jammed.

"I'll find a way around," he promised.

"Be careful," Sam told him through the partition. Dean swallowed his fear. "You too, Sammy."

* * *

><p>"This is one sick game," Sam said loudly. He figured Gordon had to be close, if he really wanted Sam.<p>

"This stopped being a game a long time ago, Sammy."

Sam carefully placed his voice and gripped his machete. Gordon may have the advantage in speed, but Sam had a good chance of catching him off guard if Gordon thought he could attack and him surprise Sam.

"So what? Attack the blind guy for existing?"

"We both know you're a monster."

"Look who's talking," Sam retorted. Gordon was creeping closer. Sam hunched his shoulders up like he was uncertain and nervous.

"I know what I am. But if I'm going to die a monster, I'm taking you with me."

Gordon lunged, and Sam swung. His machete hit a little too low, hooking deep into Gordon's shoulder. The vampire shrieked and slammed into Sam, sending them toppling back through some shelving. Ignoring the pain, Sam tugged at his machete. Gordon responded by pushing forward and biting into Sam's neck. With a strangled cry, Sam managed to pull his machete free, even as Gordon started draining him. He chopped uncoordinatedly at Gordon's body. Gordon released him long enough that Sam was able to scoot back and take a heavier swing.

The thud was quiet. Sam edged a toe forward and bumped into . . . well, it was probably Gordon's head, but he really didn't want to think about it.

"Sammy!"

"Dean!"

Dean collided with him and checked him over efficiently. "Did he give you blood? Are you hurt?"

"Just the neck." Sam swayed a little. "What happened to the girl?"

"Gordon turned her," Dean said shortly. He placed some kind of compress against Sam's neck and pressed Sam's hand against it. "Let's get out of here."

"He's dead?"

"Yeah, Sammy, he's dead." Dean's harsh voice was at odds with his gentle hands as he led Sam out.

"You okay?"

"Am I—" Dean cut off, and Sam waited. "Sam, you are the most infuriating little brother on this planet."

"Sorry." He blearily tried to focus on Dean's words.

"No you're not, you stupid . . . look, I'm already doomed, why do you need to do this? I could've taken Gordon."

"Aren't we a team?" Sam demanded, ignoring the hurt.

Dean sighed. "Yeah, but Sam—"

"Then you let me be a team with you. Otherwise, what's the point?"

"Fine."

"Fine."

Sam was 100% sure that nothing was fine, but he would never say it aloud. It far was easier to lie to himself and to Dean.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Like I said on Day By Day, i'm attempting nanowrimo this year, so expect very few updates for a while. As far as what you will expect coming up when I do finally update, there are four or so more prompts left for Day By Day, another Bela story, possibly a tag back in Season 2, and the grand finale to this all. Thanks for reading :)


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